Weapons of Choice
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: In a world where Tom Riddle became a politician not a Dark Lord, little Harry Potter grows up shut away in Godric's Hollow. As Hogwarts approaches -and the prejudice and politics that come along with it- halfblood Harry must use all of his cleverness and cunning to fight for his place in the wizarding world...or lose it. Massively AU.
1. Prologue

***Weapons of Choice***

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 **Weapons of Choice by Pseudonymous Entity**

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 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

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 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** None at this time

 **AN: I always have stories in the back of my mind and every so often one simply won't go away and I am forced to put it down before it consumes me. This is one of those stories. Or actually, this is the beginning.**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

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 _"Just a moment's error, a wrong choice, traps us on a road of no return_

 _...Imagine the fright when we realize the severity of our mistakes_

 _Whoever said love was a happy affair?"_

 **-Yuuri Eda**

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Magic can do many wonderful things.

In the non-magical world, it can bring a smile to young children or wide eyes of amazement to the adult passing by a street magician. In other, hidden worlds, magic can allow you to fly up into the air on broomsticks or step through the flames of a fireplace and come out somewhere else entirely. It makes the impossible possible.

Or at least it seems to.

But even magic, as one comes to find, can't do everything. Sometimes even witches and wizards make a certain kind of mistake that no elixer or charm can mend. For the most part, these instances are rare enough that the majority of us can continue on in our lives in a naive sort of confidence that everything will turn out right in the end, no matter how our yesterday may have gone. In reality, we are all of us only a breath away from losing that naivete.

James Potter was the sort of boy who believed anything was possible. That he could do anything he wanted and have whatever he wanted, and if all else failed _magic_ would do it for him. He grew up the spoilt and beloved only child of an older magic couple, each coming from a long line of other magical people. James was a clever boy and, he discovered upon entering school, talented at Transfiguration and Flying. Being the clever boy he was James realized he could at times cross the line when the thing between him and what he wanted was a _someone._ This never stopped him.

A day came, however, were getting what he wanted stopped mattering quite as much. Or rather, he no longer knew for certain what it was he wanted. Even in a world of magic, there are arguments and sometimes those arguments and differences of opinions escalate in the form of violence. Such was the case here. James' parents weren't just pureblooded magic folk, they both belonged to ancient and noble houses. In fact, the Potters and the Blacks both -For James mother had been born to the Blacks- found their names in the Book of Gold.

There are three books for such names, the books of Gold, Silver, and Bronze. The names found therein were wizarding royalty, or as close as magic folk got. As such these families carrying these names held responsibilities. Once such responsibility was the writing and passing of laws and regulations for their world. The problem here lay in the fact not everyone agreed on what was best. And sometimes when an especially important or controversial vote was coming up, the arguments would become more subtle -or even deadly- in their approach. People would change their minds or suddenly lose interest. Switch their sides or even, quite unfortunately of course, fall ill. Or die.

James' parents were part of the forerunners for new legislation concerning blood status within the wizarding world and how it should -or shouldn't- have an effect. No one would ever know for sure who did it, but just before James' father was due to put his signature down he fell mysteriously ill and perished. His mother following him.

Alone in the world, and understanding that the sort of magics required to bring his parents back was exactly the sort of thing they'd died fighting against, James returned to school unsteady and unfocused. What did this mean for him? What would he do now? James poured himself into his studies and ignored even his friends for a while, trying to come to terms with his new life. He was sixteen. He was the Lord of a family. And the only member of that family. Suddenly his life was filled with responsibilities and questions _and magic hadn't saved his parents_.

Oh, how James resented magic in those dark days.

Storms do end though and once again James found himself smiling and laughing. He gained a girlfriend and -after they graduated- a wife. In the form of one Lily Potter nee Evans. Thin and long with tumbling red waves for hair, and bright almond shaped eyes the perfect shade of green, she was everything to him. Or so James decided. He ignored his former anguish and transferred all of his affections and focus onto Lily. Keeping _her_ happy, making _her_ smile.

It was not long after he discovered he was due to become a father. As strong as James' joy was it compared little to that of Lily. Her eyes shined and her skin glowed whenever she thought of the approaching baby and she spent most of her days flitting about Godric's Hollow and decorating the new nursery. And it was here that James remembered something that he had forgotten. Magic can't fix everything.

On a day that dawned crisp and fresh and full of promise, the tiny bit of darkness James had shoved aside after his parents' death crawled out of its corner and began to make a mess inside of Jame's head and his heart.

Lily was going to die.

Lily was going to die because she was sick and rather than trying to heal herself her magic had instead focused on the unborn life within her. In the child's place, Lily began to waste away. Her cheeks hollowed and her skin grew ashen. It seemed every time James managed to forget he had only to look at her to be forcefully reminded. If Lily had the baby, Lily would die. And Lily had decided she was _having_ that baby.

Unable to watch the light of his life fade, James spent more and more time away. He ignored the concerned inquiries from his friends and assured those that might notice his unbalance that he was fine. During these moments James made his first mistake in the form of a pureblooded witch with dusty orange-yellow hair that gleamed red in the candlelight...

On the day of his son's birth, James Potter would make his second mistake.

When the child was born it was a son, as James had hoped. He held the babe in his arms while his wife rested. The mediwitch assured him if Lily allowed her magic to begin healing her she had a chance of surviving her illness. His joy at the news was tarnished when, as he spoke, he noticed a dim to Lily's vibrant green eyes. She would not be doing so, she told him. For what the nurses failed to mention was that the baby in his arms had contracted the disease from its mother and without special care and attention -and the magic Lily alone could spare- the child wouldn't be long for this world.

And here James felt and acknowledged the darkness within him. The pieces of him that resented magic, and resented the laws that forbade him from saving his parents, and even resented the love Lily held for the child that would have her giving up her life for _it_ rather than giving up on it and living for _him_. She loved the child more than James and the once joy and once pride within him turned bitter with jealousy. He stared down at the sleeping child in his arms, this boy with his chin and his nose and even his hair. Would be left with nothing? Alone once more with only a carbon copy of himself to serve as a reminder of his inadequacy? He could not save his parents and he would not be able to save Lily.

But oh that part of him that was always so willing to cross the line in search of what he wanted, reared its head and James looked from Lily to the Baby and back and forth, an idea forming in his mind. He ignored Lily's alarmed questioning. He ignored the sound of his best friend knocking on the door, wanting to know if he could come in to see the baby. All James could think or feel in that moment was a tumultuous whirlwind of guilt and jealousy and _want_. He wanted to keep Lily with him.  
James vaguely registered the sound of his best friends' voice. He barely felt the hands on his shoulders shaking him, demanding to know what he had done. It was too late. Too late!

No one could change it. He examined the child he held which opened its eyes at the commotion. Softer, pointed chin. Higher, rounder cheeks. And...bright viridian green eyes.

In the months following Lily's death, James would continue to make mistakes. He would leave the raising of his son to nanny's, as he could not bear the guilt he felt when he looked at it. He would remarry, for the other witch he'd spent his attentions on was about to give birth. To another son in fact. He would make so _many_ mistakes, the consequences of which would not begin to be realized for nearly eleven years. But this was never a story about James. This is a story about his son.

Harry Potter.

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 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

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 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: I have the first few chapters of this already outlined, and ready for plumping and decorating. If you're interested?**

 **ANx2:** I thoroughly enjoy guesses and theories no matter how long the comment ends up being, never fear to share your thoughts with me. I value all of my readers and appreciate the insight and the brief glimpses of the story from your perspective.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	2. Wolf at Your Door

***Weapons of Choice***

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 **Weapons of Choice** **by** **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

* * *

 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter (Others will be around and we will see POVs from various characters. Still debating which to put here without spoiling the surprise for some of them...)

 **Warnings:** None at this time. Suggestions?

 **AN: Now we're going to get a look at this Harry through the eyes of adults around him.**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

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 _"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear_

 _...an honest compliment or the smallest act of caring..."_

 **Leo F. Buscaglia**

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Remus stepped from the hearth into a small receiving area, amber eyes automatically glancing around to note changes.

A table near the fireplace. A cloak rack. Bare. He hadn't been here in nearly three years. The smells were different, he thought to himself, walking further into the room. Where it once had smelled of baked goods and Lily's perfume it now smelled...clean. He knew, however, that within these walls resided a small boy he was very anxious to meet.

In his hands was clutched a hastily written letter from James Potter. Within was an urgently worded request seeking assistance with a three-year-old Harry. Remus had a hard time imagining any child -even the child of James Potter- could be that much of a handful at only three years of age. Yet...James had mentioned going through several nannies and seemed at his wit's end. His friend was hoping Remus would help little Harry with his temper and self-control, and the task of keeping his magic in check.

Remus, of course, knows why James would come to him with such a request. As a werewolf, he constantly maintained a higher than an ordinary amount of self-control and emotional regulation. This sort of thing when one was much stronger and faster than the regular wizards around you...more especially if you wished to keep your lycanthropy from being public knowledge.

He may have snuck in with him a book on _the development and understanding of magical toddlers_. It wasn't as if Remus had any experience with small children. No strangers apart from the nanny's and occasional visitors had come into contact with Harry, making this an even more delicate encounter than normal for Remus. He knew of the child's seclusion from his own conversations with Sirius Black, his other closest friend and who had had a recent falling out with James.

The Auror wouldn't be allowing anyone apart from Remus and himself come into contact with the boy for the foreseeable future. Something Remus hoped he could eventually talk James out of. Surely that would prove ultimately unnecessary...

Remus came across James leaning on his elbows in the empty, very clean, kitchen, with a half-empty glass of water resting on the counter in front of him he appeared to be looking through, deep in his thoughts. He waited patiently for the Auror to notice him, and soon he did.

"I've gathered the notes and files from the other nanny's for you to read through. You're going to want to read them. It'll help you...understand." James turned abruptly and dumped the contents of the glass into the sink and set the glass aside. "I have to go I'm already late. I'll be back after work, maybe sooner. Good luck." James walked from the room toward the floo. His footsteps faded. Silence.

"Right," Remus said to himself. "I'll just...find Harry."

He noted to himself as he made his way through the cottage how ridiculous it was for a fully grown wizard, let alone one that happened to be a werewolf, to be intimidated by someone who'd been alive less than four years. He found his way to the nursery easily, it hadn't changed location in the three years it'd been since he'd last set foot in it. With a tiny amount of trepidation and more curiosity than was probably healthy, Remus pushed open the nursery door.

It was decent sized and wide. Open. A tall dresser stood against the wall to the far left, with a little desk and chair near it. Nearer to him there was a partially opened closet. To his right a larger desk, obviously for an adult. Low bookcases dominating that side of the room. Along the walls a pale green silhouette of a familiar forest. Lily's doing, he remembered. Directly across a window which reached from floor to ceiling with a small cushioned bench in front of it. There stood the dark figure of a small child facing away from.

Remus stood quietly for a moment, debating with himself how to proceed. How much of what was happen was Harry aware of? How much did he understand? How would he respond to yet another stranger?

Before he could come to any decision at all the boy twisted to look at Remus over his shoulder. The werewolf felt his mouth run a little dry as he stared into a face that mirrored Lily's in almost its entirety. Her cheeks, her chin, and her wide-set vibrant green eyes. In fact, Remus' own amber coloured eyes wandered over the child, his build was slender even at this age. Long thin fingers just visible at the bottom of his gray jumper, narrow shoulders at the top. The boy had certainly taken after his mother.

It was uncanny.

He noticed - _and did not comment though it made his hair stand up_ \- that the boy's feet weren't quite touching the ground. Hovering an inch or so from the carpeting. Remus also noticed that the book which lay on the cushioned stool in front of the window shut its self after the bookmark situated its self in the proper place.

"Hullo, Harry." Remus offered, faintly.

Bright eyes studied him long enough for the wizard to feel uncomfortable before thick lashes slide down in a slow blink and the boy turned the rest of the way around in a fluid cat-like motion. Werewolf and child watched one another, observing. Not knowing what else to do Remus picked up a collection of files laid on the desk which he assumed were the notes James was talking about and sank into sitting position with crossed legs on the carpet in front of Harry. He made no motion to get closer to the child. Not yet.

Curious, Remus flipped open the first file.

Half an hour later he set them aside in disgust. Words like ' _unnatural_ ' and ' _supercilious_ ' were insulting when used in regard to an adult let alone an innocent three-year-old. It was hardly the boy's fault his magic tended to act out and -being a quiet or serious person even as a very young person as well- was hardly cause for nasty language or condemnation.

Remus glanced up in the midst of mental ranting and froze. Harry stood quite close, green eyes peering at him with keen interest. It was very hard to look away from those eyes. He hadn't ever before been peered at in such a matter, as if someone's entire focus was on _him_ and nothing else existed. Remus found himself leaning back as the child leaned in closer, oddly intimidated. Which was silly and he'd be embarrassed if anyone saw. Remus had always actively avoided children out of fear of harming one accidentally or frightening one just as accidentally. Now he recoiled from a petite three-year-old as if the child were a particularly ill-tempered kneazle with its claws out.

Harry had stopped his movements, however, and assumed a very open non-threatening pose. Perhaps the boy had picked up on Remus' unease? Feeling guilty Remus gave him a small smile. Harry cocked his head to the side, wild inky strands of hair falling across to the other side of his face as he did.

"Are you the new babysitter?" Harry asked. The child's voice was clear and held no hint of speech impediment or odd phrasing children his age sometimes had.

"Tutor." Remus corrected. "There won't be any more nannies. Or babysitters."

Harry gave a short nod. He folded his legs and came to the imitation of a seat in front of Remus, still not quite touching the ground. "Are you here to fix me?" Harry inquired.

The werewolf felt his heart twist at the innocent question. Harry should never have been that aware of his previous caretakers' feelings to think to ask something like that. "No. I am here to help you."

"Why?"

"Your father asked me to." Said Remus, honestly.

"Is he going to pay you a lot of money?" Harry asked.

Remus frowned. "No. I'm an old friend of your father's, I would never demand anything from him. Not even money." Remus explained, trying to keep his words simple so Harry would understand. The child was definitely articulate for his age but according to Remus' book the level of language _didn't_ always equal out to the level of understanding. It would be best to keep explanations simple until he knew him better and glean what sort of things Harry easily understood and what sort of things he'd need to simplify.

Harry frowned this time. At least Remus thought it was a frown. The corner's of the child's mouth was turned down slightly. "He should pay you." Said Harry, decisively.

Remus, feeling a brief fierce wave of warmth from that statement, gave him a smile. "Perhaps we'll bring that up sometime."

Harry nodded slowly, seemingly accepting Remus' answer for now. Harry's green eyes flicked over Remus now and then, occasionally darting to the side and pausing for a moment. Concentrating on something maybe or formulating a thought, Remus assumed. Once in a while an object out of his line of sight would move just enough for him to vaguely make it out in the corners of his eyes, or make a slight sound as it was moved.

Harry's magic fidgeting in place of the boy's body doing so.

He was really very observant for such a young child. Then, having so many strangers in and out of his life would understandably make him pay more attention to those around him. Remus contemplated how to proceed. "Why did you ask if I was going to fix you, Harry?"

Harry's answer was prompt. "There's something wrong with me."

" _No, there's not_." Remus corrected, voice firm and low with the slightest drag that was only just avoided being a growl. The child stilled, eyes widening. Surprised. Remus clenched his right fist, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. A grounding technique he'd learned just after he was bitten and never managed to grow out of. It served its purpose, keeping him present and focused. It was a subtle thing. Still, those witches ought to have known better. There was no excuse for Harry to believe something like that about himself. "Nothing is wrong with you Harry," Remus repeated, his voice softer.

"You're different. Somehow. And there isn't anything at all wrong with that."

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: I'll take that as a tentative yes.**

 **ANx2** :Any conclusions based on the information in this chapter? We'll see more of Remus interacting with Harry -and James as well- in the next chapters. Sirius will be making an appearance. We'll also learn more about what Remus is teaching Harry, and James's motives for keeping Harry hidden away. It won't be too many chapters however, before there's a time skip and we start seeing things from Harry's perspective. Don't worry.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	3. Demons in a Looking Glass

***Weapons of Choice***

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 **Weapons of Choice** **by** **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

* * *

 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter (Others will be around and we will see POVs from various characters...)

 **Warnings:** None at this time. Suggestions?

 **AN:** Remus gets a glimpse into the life and secrets of little Harry.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

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 _"Some days life feels perfect, other days it just ain't working_

 _The good - the bad - the right - the wrong (and everything in between)_

 _...through the words we say mountains crumble, with every syllable, hope can live or die_

 _So speak life, speak life, to the deadest darkest night, speak life - When the sun won't shine and you don't know why..._

 _Look into the eyes of the broken-hearted, watch them come alive as soon as you speak hope - you speak love - you speak life."_

 **-Speak Life**

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Late that afternoon Remus found himself in position to witness more of Harry's...eccentricities.

He stood in the kitchen leaning against a counter with his arms crossed. It was just as bare as it had been that morning, the essentials and nothing else. Some counters and some shelves above which carried dishes. One spinning rack with cooking utensils. A sink. In the middle was placed a long rectangular dining table with chairs.

At the table sat Harry, barely tall enough to see over the top. He had some paper and a pen and appeared to be scribbling on the paper. Beside him, a cup of tea cooled. His face stoic and didn't look up at the adults or even seem to be paying them much attention.  
To the left of Harry and opposite where Remus stood, paced James Potter.

"...know what I'll do about that. _She's_ got six different events she's accepted and I've still got scheduling for the trainees to finish. Both the boys are restless and have lessons to arrange. She's insisting on elocution of all things. They're hardly old enough to worry about that, but she's traditional and she insists." James turned and rested against the counter, fingers rapping along the marble top. "Then there's _him_ and the never-ending parade of nosey witches and uncontrolled magic. I haven't had a moment to myself in weeks..."

A faint tinkling noise drew Remus' attention away from the ranting Auror. He looked around the kitchen for the source, then finally glanced at Harry. The child didn't show outwardly whether he heard his father's words. His face the same mostly expressionless canvas it had been in _all_ day. His hand kept moving the pen with no slowing down to indicate he was listening. Remus eyes swept the table and stopped at the teapot resting on a soft towel at the other end of the table.

It was faded blue and partially filled with tea. Abnormally, however, a tiny crack was making its-self known in the side of it. Amber eyes watched small fissure flare out from it slowly then gradually quicker. The tinkling, grinding noise grew louder as well.

"James-" Was all Remus managed to get out before it happened.

The teapot burst into hundreds of small porcelain splinters, flying outward in every direction. Remus heard James hastily ducking beneath the table. He himself had made to pull back Harry. His arm made it partway around the boy when suddenly the noise stopped. Remus looked down at Harry who looked up at him. The first time he'd acknowledged either of them in some time. Neither of them was covered in tiny cuts.

The werewolf twisted and glanced back at the kitchen. Arched around the two of them was a shield. The bits of porcelain had hit it and slid down to the top of the table and the ground, harmlessly. James' head of messy hair made an appearance out from under the table, only a tiny bit of pale blue dust visible in it. He was otherwise unscathed.

Breathing hard, James rested his fists on the table and collected himself.

"Then there's _this_ ," James emphasized, lifting one hand to gesture toward his son.

Remus looked back down at Harry.

The boy reached out a hand and touched his arm briefly. "It's okay. You can stop now." Murmured Harry.

He blinked, straightening ad releasing Harry from his hold. Remus supposed James was used to it enough that the Auror had known about Harry's shield. But where had he learned to cast it? And non verbally as well, ignoring that at -nearly four- he had no wand.  
Remus turned back to James and lifted an eyebrow.

"He says his magic just _does_ it," James explained with a pained expression. "It just responds to whatever he is thinking or feeling with no real direction on his part. I have no idea how he does the shield." He stood up, running fingers through his hair. "Or anything _else_ he does either."

It was silent for several moments.

"I need...to go." James bit out. The Auror began walking from the room, minuscule pieces of porcelain tinkling beneath his boots. "Do something about...this." He called over his shoulder. Once again Remus was left alone with Harry. The werewolf released a soft sigh and turned to the boy who to his surprise was watching him intently.

"I'm not sorry." Said the boy. Remus would have called it defiant if there was ever any inflection in the boy's voice.

"You're not sorry?" Remus repeated.

Harry shook his head once. "I'm not." He paused and after a moment added. "For breaking the teapot."

Remus nodded. He considered the situation and Harry's word carefully. Everything he'd read in his book flitting through his mind, as well as what he knew about people in general. The boy had the right to be angry and to express that anger. True enough. Making things explode however was not a constructive choice to go about it.

" _Is_ there something you're sorry for?" Remus asked carefully.

Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit it for half a second, then released it. The first genuinely child like thing Remus had seen from him. "I am sorry for scaring you," Harry said.

Remus bent down so he was level with Harry's eyes. "I forgive you." He said.

Green eyes glimmered for a brief moment before the boy regained his composure. Then the sound of tinkling once again filtered into the air. Remus turned on the heel of his shoes from his crouched position, wondering if he'd upset Harry further. Instead, he saw tiny pieces of porcelain rising into the air, glittering in the muted light streaming through the curtain of the window over the sink. The pieces moved about in the air, coming together and breaking apart and coming together again. Shapes began to form. The entire thing lowered to the table and the tinkling sound, where before it had sounded ominous, now sounded musical.

Finally, it ended and the teapot stood on its towel as if nothing had happened.

Remus turned back to Harry, meeting green eyes that were watching. Waiting for his reaction. Waiting to see what Remus do, to see if he would react like all the others. Like even James did. Waiting for rejection or fear or revulsion. Or just the weary, grudging acceptance of _a problem to be dealt with_ that James had exuded. Remus felt a swell of empathy and understanding for the little boy. _He_ knew what it was like to be so certain no one would ever look at you and see something worthwhile, and it physically pained him somewhere deep within himself. It hurt to see another experience those same emotions. More so that those feelings, that that torrent of insecurity and fear and melancholy, resided within the serious, tiny statue-like boy in front of him.

He stood, reached out a hand and patted the top of Harry's head, noting the slight confusion that was visible on that blank face for the smallest of moments.

"That was _very_ impressive. Well done Harry." Said Remus, smiling widely. "Can you show me what else you can do?" A chair screeched. Little shoes hit the floor. Tiny arms flung about Remus' waist and held him tightly in what Remus knew instinctively was a rare show of affection.

Harry cried silently.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: That's chapter three done.**

 **ANx2** : Notice anything important? Thoughts on Harry?

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	4. Desperate Measures

***Weapons of Choice***

* * *

 **Weapons of Choice** **by** **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

* * *

 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter (Others will be around and we will see POVs from various characters...)

 **Warnings:** None at this time. Suggestions?

 **AN: Choices, choices, choices**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"There are no words to express the abyss between isolation and having one ally_

 _It may be conceded to the mathematician that four is twice two_

 _But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one..."_

 **-G.K Chesterton**

* * *

Harry ate the dinner Remus fixed for him and went to bed without any resistance.

In the quiet Remus busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen and considering a schedule for Harry. Various activities throughout the day design to help the boy come to terms with and recognize his emotions, and hopefully, contain those emotions before his magic felt the need to lash out. Lessons in control definitely. Harry needed to learn to focus his magic to feel it and become familiar with it. If he learned control techniques he could redirect his magic when it got out of hand, making events like that afternoon things of the past.

When the kitchen was finished which didn't take very long as Harry was a very clean boy, Remus sat at the table and began writing out his ideas. He was set in his determination to help the child. Perhaps if Harry could get his magic under control then James would feel inclined to bring his siblings around. He didn't think Harry had ever even met them. It would be good for him to have someone his own age around to interact with. Maybe James would feel more comfortable around Harry as well, and it would certainly lesson James' stress.

His wife was...well she knew what she wanted and what her opinions were. A handful. James had never been attracted to mellow, easy going witches that was for certain.

Just as Remus began writing on the back of his second square of parchment the floo made the soft whoosh of an incoming floo. He lifted his eyes to see a tired and drained James heading his way, red Auror's cloak hanging in the crook of one arm.

James gave him a short nod, heading immediately for the sink and filling a glass. The Auror knocked it back like a man who needed something stronger and couldn't have it. Being on call, he certainly couldn't.

"I have ideas," Remus said. "I've come up with some exercises I think will help him. Recognizing his emotions certainly, and focus his energy and directing his magic so it doesn't act on his behalf." He summarized.

James' lips quirked up bitterly. "I've heard a lot of suggestions today." He muttered.

James turned around. He brought up his cloak and rummaged around in it for a moment, bringing out a small vial of peach coloured liquid. "Repression potion," James revealed. He rolled it between his fingers consideringly, then set it down on the table.

Remus watched his friend pull out a chair and collapse into heavily. "I can't even say I hadn't thought about it before. I don't want to...but it might be the only way."

"Repression potion," Remus repeated, softly.

James looked up from where he'd been twisting his fingers together. He looked torn. "It'll wall his magic up inside of him. Contain it to himself. For as long as he takes it. Maybe when he's better. If he gets better...then I can lessen the amount. See how he does."

His eyes went wide. "But that's...that's..."

"Barbaric?" James offered, tonelessly. "I don't know what else to  
do. I just know I can't continue like this. I can't wonder what he's going to blow up today. Whether a bookcase is going to topple over on me if he's upset or if vines will creep in and try to strangle me if I open the window. I can't..." His voice trailed off. James stood up and brought out three more vials and placed them on the table. He left without another word.

Remus heard the door to James' study shut. The werewolf sat and stared at the vials glinting ominously. He pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the floo. He couldn't let James do this to Harry. Not after everything else. Not after locking him away like he was ashamed of him. Like Harry was a monster. Not after everything he had learned that day. Harry needed to learn to control his magic and his emotions, not lock it up and pretend he was a squib. He would find an alternative. There must be an alternative, something that would appease James and allow Harry to keep access to his magic. And Remus knew exactly who to ask.

If he would listen.

Remus lifted the sparkling sand from the small pot beside the hearth and tossed it into the fire.

He stepped through the glowing green flames and out the other end into a receiving room shaped like an octagon. Gray and pale purple walls surrounded him on either side, a large window that had its dark violet curtains drawn close was directly across. Taking in a breath and firming his resolve, Remus turned to his right and walked out of the small archway he knew was there.

It led out into a short hallway padded with thick carpet. The walls were the same gray and pale purple as the receiving room. Black candlesticks stuck out of the walls, lighting his way with black candles. He reached the end and turned into a sitting area. Two low backed, dark couches were within with a matching set of end tables beside either way. A wizard sat in one of them, long black hair tied partly back, legs crossed and a book laid across them.

"He isn't here. Hasn't been back since that disastrous summer party two and a half years ago." The wizard said without looking up. "Try someplace dark with lots of alcohol..."

Remus stepped further into the room.

"Actually I'm looking for you." Said the werewolf. Pale gray eyes snapped up to meet his, glimmering with interest. "I need your help Regulus."

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: And another one down...another one down...**

 **ANx2** : And the plot thickens

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	5. Idle Hands

***Weapons of Choice***

* * *

 **Weapons of Choice** **by** **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

* * *

 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter (Others will be around and we will see POVs from various characters...)

 **Warnings:** Suggestions?

 **AN: Sometimes we find our allies in the strangest of places...**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"You played me so well_

 _I didn't notice when the floor fell from underneath my feet_

 _I thought we were floating_

 _Those vacant eyes looking back to see your words under my skin_

 _And I am more than a moment, but I had to give in..."_

 **-Emery**

* * *

Regulus eyed the larger wizard in front of him.

So serious. Resolved. Regulus supposed he'd always been willing to grant Lupin more allowances than the other wizards his elder brother chose to socialize with. Lupin had always been one of them, hadn't he? He could play unassuming light wizard all he liked, but at the end of the day a creature of the night was a creature of the night. Whether that be by blood, by design or by _bite_.

He closed his book and set it aside, standing before the werewolf. "Is this an 'off the books' sort of request, Lupin?" Regulus asked, voice falsely sweet.

Lupin didn't show any of the uncomfortable hesitation or self-loathing a true child of the light might display when they thought they were doing something naughty. No...Lupin never did anything without being certain in choice. All the more intriguing for Regulus. After all, Lupin came to him and not Sirius. It must be something _good._

Regulus nodded, turning sharply on his heel to the right. "This way." He continued to the door on the other side of the room not bothering to check to see if Lupin was following behind him. He knew he would be.

He raised his hand as they approached the door. A brief flare of magic the only indication that the door had been locked. Regulus was one of the only people alive who could get into this room. It held no portraits and no floo. No other entrances. Contained within a single round table in the middle of the room in a dark reddish wood, shiny and clear of scratches. Lining the walls were seemingly empty glass cabinets, each locked.

Regulus leaned his elbows on the table, cradling his chin in his hands. Hooded gray eyes peered up at the taller wizard through long lashes. "By all means, tell me every sordid detail. Of what use may I be of you, Remus Lupin?"

The werewolf shook his head. "First conditions."

Regulus tilted his head, smiling playing along the edges of his mouth. "Oh, my. We _are_ doing something naughty aren't we?" He feigned a reluctant sigh. "Very well. I suppose a standard privacy clause is of no interest to you?"

"A vow of silence."

Regulus straightened. His heartbeat sped up, fingers twitching beside him as if playing an invisible piano. "Silence?" His smile widened, flashing his teeth. "Indefinitely?"

Lupin paused. "With myself and one other. We may neither of us speak of it or communicate it otherwise."

"Both of us?" Regulus confirmed. He allowed himself to rock back on his heels, leaning his head back to study the ceiling idly. Normally a vow of silence would require a lot more for him to consider. But for all parties to be sworn to it? This _was_ going to be good.

"Done," Regulus said. He snapped his fingers and felt the invisible ties of magic mind them to their promise. Lupin's startled breath brought his focus back to his companion. He clapped his hands together. "This is going to be fun. I can't tell. Go on then." He waved a hand.

Lupin released a relieved breath and leant against the table, amber eyes on the grains of the polished wood.

"James' son. There's something going on with him. His magic is...impossible at that age. The things he can do." Lupin looked up at Regulus. "No child ought to have that amount of ambient magic floating over them and soaking into the air. His feet never even touch the ground. His magic simply _moves_ around him according to his desires. This is no accidental magic. I don't know what it is. Remarkable."

"Not everyone agrees." Regulus guessed shrewdly.

A huff. "No. The boy has gone through several caregivers. They have not kept their thought to themselves around him. He thinks there's something wrong with him. And James." Lupin trailed off with a frustrated growl. "He's at his wit's end. I think he just sees it as a problem and wants to spill some ink over it so he can pretend it isn't there. He brought repression potions back with him tonight."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Of course he would. Hide the problem and it goes away..." He turned and headed toward one of the glass cabinets. Regulus waved a hand over the lock. It clicked. The glass case slid open. "We're looking for an alternative obviously. You want me to find something to help the boy that doesn't include locking his magic inside of him like he's an out of control magical creature."

He could sense rather than see the wince that comment received. Carefully, Regulus pulled out a tome from the case. He tilted it to the side. The words Master Yourself scrawled across the cover easily visible. His mind was already formulating a possible solution to Lupin's problem.

"How old is the child?"

Lupin started. He'd walked closer to Regulus and froze comically for a moment as if waiting for Regulus to scold him for trying to get a better look.

"He'll be four in July."

Regulus turned the full way around. "July. Is it that child? The muggleborn's child?" Gray eyes glinted. "I may know just the thing." Regulus gave the werewolf a teasing smie. "Look at you. Plotting around your closest friends. I almost like you." He began to dark around the room, gathering from various glass cabinets the things he needed. Metals, and small steel links, and a tool for bending. A moment later he stood back at the table, his hands busily getting to work.

"A powerful, dark heir to a light family. Just what the world needs."

Lupin's head jerked up. "I never said he was dark."

Without slowing in his work Regulus looked up to meet the werewolf's eyes. "If that child was making fireworks and levitating sippy cups or animating his stuffed animals to bark, James Potter would be thrilled. Every pureblood family would see that child at every social event as he showed him off. No...No this child doesn't do those sort of things. What _does_ he do?"

Regulus leaned across the table. "Tell me," He purred.

Lupin swallowed, but he did answer him. The vow of silence perhaps reassuring him. "James mentioned something about vines creeping in through the windows strangling people." He paused. "I witnessed a teapot explode into tiny pieces. They'd have sliced into us I think if Harry hadn't put up a shield. Nearly right after he took every single piece, every bit of porcelain dust and rebuilt the teapot exactly as it was."

"Harry," Regulus repeated, more to himself than Lupin. In his hands, he held a bracelet, carved in runes, which he shrunk into a ring after some thought. Some woven charms to allow the ring to grow with the child. He held it up to the light to admire it.

"Aerokinesis. Environment Manipulation. _My, My_. I think I shall expect great things from you. Harry Potter."

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: Ladies and Gents, I give you...Regulus Black.**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	6. Politics and Probability

***Weapons of Choice***

* * *

 **Weapons of Choice** **by** **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **"** _If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you_ **." -Slaying Dragons**

* * *

 **Summary:** In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter (Others will be around and we will see POVs from various characters...)

 **Warnings:** _References to and Definitions and Examples of_ **:** Emotional Manipulation, Wizarding Politics, Magical Creatures, Pureblood-isms, Traits and Talents, Prejudice, Status and Ranks, Houses, Wizarding Nobility, Political Maneuvering, Manipulation of Probability, Masks, Alliances, Natural Magic, Low Magic, High Magic, Spellcrafting, Magical Theory...

 **AN: Hints about why Remus went to Regulus for help, and of what is going on in the wizarding world outside of Godric's Hollow and little Harry. Also contains hints of the sort of things Harry will be dealing with when he is older. In just a few chapters in fact...**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"It's in the way you sell every word and phrase_

 _And leaving me to know how much the meaning weighs_

 _Saying that but meaning this, using hands for emphasis_

 _There's that smile again, you fake it and I follow you right in_

 _...and those eyes are telling white, white lies."_

 **-Studying Politics**

* * *

In the soft light of the secret room -which had no visible source that Remus could detect- the werewolf watched Regulus enchant the ring he'd made.

Carefully drawn runic arrays filled several large pieces of parchment, within which lay the ring. Remus knew enough about this sort of thing to know that it was difficult and complex, and that Regulus' 'special skills' were ridiculously rare. This was of course why Remus thought to come to him with his problem. He did not know the _mechanics_ of the other wizards skills or how it worked. What he did know was that the metal manipulation which permitted him to create such intricate metal and jewelry work was used alongside or perhaps connected to his skills of _Augmentation_ and _Bestowing_.

Both rare and coveted gifts.

In the wizarding world, magic was accepted as something which made the impossible possible. But even magic had its rules. Or at least, it had a tendency to do certain things in a certain way. Accordingly, wizards formed their culture around the 'facts' of magic as they knew and understood them.

A family with powerful, rare or dangerous talents and traits are considered a 'House' when the line produces the same sort of traits and talents effectively for at least four generations, and when two of those magicals were classified above average in their magicks, skills or talents. This created the basis for the basic definition of a _House_. This family or connected families -by blood/marriage- could in theory, with the appropriate proof of their claims, apply for registration in the House Ranks, forming a House.

What is important to keep in mind here are those Traits and Talents.

Magic, and subsequent talents and traits, were passed down through the bloodline from parent or parent to child. Hence the emphasis and importance of blood in wizarding culture. Generally, a magical being will have a singular dominate type of magic at which they excel and, if they belong to a family with proven talents and traits, a specific family talent or trait. While there are always ways to strengthen and amplify your talents through rituals, enchantments, and just practice, you can't actually develop or learn a trait or talent that isn't _already_ somewhere in your blood.

For instance, if you were born to a family whose elementals traits granted you the talent to focus and command static electricity in the environment and contain them into mini lightning bolts you can shoot from your fingertips, you couldn't force yourself or your magic to attain a talent that would allow you to manipulate the moisture in the air around you to produce rain or snow. Even though both are elemental manipulation talents.

No matter how hard you tried.

 _...unless._

There are certain peculiarities to magic. Exceptions to every rule. The skills Regulus used to create the perfect alternative to repression potion in the ring laying on the table before him, was one of these peculiarities. Not that Regulus didn't already have enough of those.

 _Augmentation._ The talent which allows the witch or wizard it belongs to to directly enhance or weaken aspects -skills, talents and traits- of someone else. To manipulate and alter someone _else's_ magic.

 _Bestowal._ A talent which allowed Regulus to create a small, contained packet of magic mimicking nearly any trait or skill, and gift it within another wizard or witch. Making it a part of their magical makeup and giving them the ability to develop it. How quickly and how strong depended a great deal on the dedication of said witch or wizard to practice and develop it. It would never, of course, be as strong as or easily controlled as it would be had they gained it naturally.

The point being that Regulus Black was probably one of the only wizards alive uniquely qualified to assist Remus in this problem. These weren't his only peculiarities. But Remus didn't like thinking about the others. No one did.

In front of him, Regulus carefully placed the newly designed and enchanted ring within a small glass case. He snapped it shut with a muted click and held it up, grey eyes examining the creation within in the light. Giving a nod -which was probably more for Remus' benefit- the wizard held it out for the werewolf to take.

Regulus put his elbows on the table in flippant disregard of the complex arrays and magics he'd just performed on it. "He'll need to wear it at all times. Any magic which he produces that has a destructive or harmful aspect will be contained and held. Temporarily. If he doesn't use it he'll need to redirect it into something else. He will, of course, be able to perform any sort of magic he consciously _intends_ to perform."

"Which hand?" Remus asked carefully.

Grey eyes glimmered with amusement. "The second finger of his left hand would suit your purposes best."

"Thank you." Remus turned to leave.

"A moment," the younger wizard's voice drawled out. "If you please." He finished when Remus turned to him warily. "I'd like to offer a bargain. Outside of this transaction but related to it. I'll even keep my silence with it as well."

Remus resisted the urge to shift on his feet. Regulus Black was not only the blood brother of Sirius Black, one of his closest friends and current head of House Black, he was also -according to tradition if not officially recognized by the ministry- the second highest ranking member of that House. If something happened to Sirius today. If he should die or go to Azkaban, Regulus would be the one to step into his place until Sirius' so was old enough to contest his position. These things meant, regardless of his personal feelings, Remus had to be careful to end this conversation in a way that didn't put Sirius in an awkward position between his friend and his duties.

"What sort of bargain do you have in mind?"

Regulus did an odd shimmy with his shoulders as if suppressing a delighted shiver. This really didn't convince Remus of he cleverness in entertaining this kind of conversation with him. "I'd like to offer you my counsel and my aid."

Amber eyes blinked. "What."

"Sound advice on the choices and paths you'll be choosing, and whatever help _I_ am capable of providing." Regulus defined. He studied the nails of his left hand as if he hadn't just suggested something Remus could never hope to afford.

"Why would you do that? What you require from me in return for your help?" Remus asked.

Regulus waved his hand. "I'd like updates on this situation with Harry. I want to see what he is capable of. I find it all...very interesting."

"Updates," Remus repeated. "Information on Harry."

"Don't look at it that way." Regulus reprimanded lightly. "I have no desire to hinder your efforts. In fact, I'd very much like to see where this goes. What could happen."

"I suppose-"

Regulus clapped his hands together. "Excellent. I'll fetch my pensive." Regulus abruptly moved away from the table, heading toward one of his glass cabinets. He slid a case to the side and pulled from within a carved stone bowl Remus recognized as a pensive.

He blinked. "Pensive?"

Regulus set it on the table and began replacing the materials from his earlier metalworking back into their cabinets. "I can hardly floo over and see for myself." The pensive was moved to the middle of the table as soon as it was cleared. Grey eyes gazed at him expectantly.

"But-"

"And," Regulus said, smiling, "I doubt James Potter would allow a child of his, even one he does not seem too fond of, anywhere near me. He won't allow you to bring him here."

Remus fought with himself a moment. Struggling between not wanting to offend Regulus Black and feeling the need to point out the obvious. "People avoid you for a reason."

Regulus placed his hands on the table and swung his body around to sit on the table directly in front of Remus, leaning closer to him than the werewolf was entirely comfortable with. "They avoid me because of what I _don't_ do. Because of what they fear I am capable of, what I _could_ do if I _wanted_ to." Slender fingers played with the buttons on Remus' shirt idly. "They avoid you out fear of what you _have done_ and what you _will do._ And yet, here I am. Politely requested not to leave my home and to willingly submit to monitoring of my every action. While you..." He purred. " Are free to move about as you wish regardless. Of course, that may not last much longer. One never knows."

Guilt. The other wizard played along Remus' fears concerning recent moves in politics, and his guilt that he'd managed to avoid restrictions and regulations that those like Regulus were subject to. Regulus likely knew and counted on how Remus would respond to such a tactic and it was this fact that convinced he werewolf to accept the bargain. This trait, this specific skill being offered that he could not resist. The talent that sent shivers down his spine thinking about just as it ignited small flames of greed and curiosity.

It was considered a form of _Luck Magic_ and _Foresight._ The ability to see all possible outcomes from any situation or course of action and the consequences that came along with each one. It was even rumoured, whispered, that he could affect the which outcome was likely to succeed, regardless of how unlikely it might have been. It was this ability that was the final nail in Regulus' coffin. The strongest leg of The Ministry's argument for the wizard to be kept under what amounted to house arrest.

And it was this that Remus knew would be invaluable. Knowing exactly what to do and say to get things to work out in his favour. Remus wasn't an ambitious werewolf, but he was one that had sworn to protect and watch out for a child and he would do what he could to uphold that promise.

"I accept."

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2018**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: Theories or guesses about Blood Traits and why they're relevant? Ideas on what this means for Harry? Catch some of the references to stuff going on in wizarding politics? Any guesses how this has affected the wizarding world along with the lack of a wizarding war with Voldemort?**

 **ANx2: Time skips ahead!**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


End file.
